


Rub A Dub Dub

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bathtub Bondage, Bondage, Clothed Sam Winchester, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/sub, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, M/M, Naked Dean Winchester, Nipple Play, Restraints, Sex Toys, Temperature Play, Water Bondage, forced insertion, tied up Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ....Dean’s in the tub.And if he wants out, he has to earn it.





	Rub A Dub Dub

**Author's Note:**

> Dean has a safeword here (though he doesn’t use it) and except for the additional shower bondage at the end, the scene was fully planned out so everything is consensual.

“It’s freaking _freezing_ , Sammy.”

Huh. Sam paused in the middle of rolling up his sleeves, and dipped his hand into the water. Not exactly lukewarm, but not exactly arctic, either.

He withdrew his hand, shaking off the water, not-quite-accidentally flicking the drops at his brother, which drew an annoyed grunt out of him.

“Oh, please,” Sam said. “You’re set your own broken fingers before, and a little cold water has you whining like I put ice in there.”

“Feels like you did!”

Sam grinned, wickedly. “Maybe I should go get some, so you know what that would _actually_ feel like.”

That shut Dean up pretty fast.

After all, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

He was sitting about three-quarters of the way down in the bath (and Sam was beyond grateful that the people who’d originally set up the bunker had liked a bit of luxury, because the tub was big enough for even Sam to stretch out in), which meant the water covered most of his abdomen and lapped at his shoulders.

The Velcro cuffs, each fitted with a suction cup that held solidly to the side of the bath (Dean had spent a good minute tugging tugging tugging to test them, and finally accepted that, until Sam let him out, he was going nowhere), gave him little room for movement.

Enough to struggle, a little, and Sam was kind of looking forward to that, but nothing else. The ones around Dean’s ankles held his legs apart, and the ones around his wrists kept them by the sides of his thighs.

With his sleeves fully rolled up, Sam crouched down next to the tub and spent a few moments leisurely checking out his helpless brother.

Dean squirmed under his gaze; even the temperature of the water didn’t stop a fierce blush rising on his skin. “Not an oil painting, dammit.”

Bratty, already. Sam sighed and reached out to flick his finger nail against one of Dean’s nipples, drawing a gasp and then a curse, so he did it again to the other one.

“You wanna keep going?”

Dean looked up, but his jaw was clenched, probably to keep it shut and stop his mouth earning him any more punishments.

Sam nodded, satisfied, and stroked the side of his brother’s neck, before trailing his fingers teasingly over his skin. Down between his clavicles, and his pecs, skimming the slightly softened outline of his abdomen (pausing around the belly button, to slip his pinkie in there and play for a bit, while Dean tried to keep quiet about it, verbally at least) before moving on to Dean’s right hip.

He traced the ridge of it, let his fingers follow the curve of his inner thigh, but stayed clear, for now, of Dean’s dick.

It wasn’t quite on board with the proceedings, the wilt probably due more to the temperature, but that suited Sam as well.

When the time came, he wanted Dean to work for it, for his release in more ways than one, and he was kind of setting himself a challenge there too.

For now, though, he stroked lightly along Dean’s skin, back and forth, feeling the tiniest hint of a tremble. Whether that was down to anticipation or maybe the water being a little too cold for comfort (Dean would have time to get used to it) Sam didn’t know, but the whole scene before him was even better than he’d imagined when he first proposed it to Dean.

Dean couldn’t see as Sam reached down and squeezed his own dick, hard, ramping down its excitement.

Dean came first. That was how they played, when they played like this.

Sam grabbed the plastic cup from the items he’d gathered that now sat on the floor, out of sight of his brother, and filled it up with the cold water.

Dean tensed up, but he couldn’t do anything to stop Sam trickling it down between his nipples, and then refilling it to douse his sensitive nubs as well.

They pebbled up nicely, firmed by the cold. Sam let the cup float in the water for a bit, and took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He switched between rolling and squeezing, listening to Dean’s breathy complaints, sounds not words, finishing up with a firm tug and then a pinch to each that lasted long enough to have Dean writhing and cursing him, again.

Sam responded to that by filling the cup, and pouring more water right over Dean’s head.

He spluttered, dramatically, as if Sam had used a bucket not a cup, and shook his head to get the water out of his eyes.

“You little shit,” he snapped, and Sam put his hand in the middle of Dean’s chest, pushing back and down by maybe a couple of inches.

Dean froze. 

Sam stared him out, until Dean’s eyes lowered, and then he removed his hand.

He wouldn’t have dunked him; they hadn’t talked about that when they were planning out this scene, and the time to have that discussion wasn’t when Dean was cuffed in a three quarters full bathtub.

But, all the same, the quiver running through Dean’s body suggested it was a talk they should have. Maybe next time, they’d take things a little in that direction.

Yeah, they would definitely be having that talk.

But for now, he picked up a tube of waterproof lube, and slicked up his fingers, and Dean was watching him once more.

“Sam,” he protested. “I can’t.”

“Mmm. Then you’ve got a problem, because you’re not getting out of the water until you come.”

He grinned as Dean tried in vain to shut his legs, achieving nothing but sloshing the water around.

“Dean. If you soak my clothes, you’re not going to like the consequences.”

Dean grumbled, but stilled, and Sam stroked his finger gently around Dean’s hole, letting his brother’s body settle and accept.

He worked his finger inside gradually, stretching Dean out until he could add his second and third fingers by which point his brother was whining at him.

“Sam, come on, please.”

Sam was fucking Dean now, a little deeper, a little harder each time, and he put his other hand on Dean’s hip to hold him still. 

“I’ll get you there,” he told Dean. “Never not got you off, right? Right?”

Dean groaned and jerked as Sam stopped thrusting his fingers in and out, and instead spread them a little, knowing Dean would feel that. Dean’s head slumped back against the bath.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, fuck, take it easy.”

Sam leaned forward enough to kiss his brother, swallowing down the rest of Dean’s discomfort as he replaced his hand with the vibe, pushing it in hard and fast, and then holding it there as Dean jerked away.

Or tried to.

He was panting hard when Sam broke the kiss, lips swollen, and maybe next time Sam would put a ball gag in there, nice and wide so his brother’s lips would be stretched around it and the only noise Dean could make would be moans.

For now, though, he turned the vibe on and it was like he’d dumped a live wire in the water. Dean’s whole body went taut, and then the only thing stopping him clambering out of the tub were the cuffs holding him in place.

He tried, though, he did, tugging hard at them and seesawing his body from side to side as if trying to build up the momentum to get free.

Sam turned the dial on the vibe’s base a little higher and Dean made a high keening sound.

“Sam, Sam, please.”

“You need to come to get out. Just once. You can do it, Dean.”

“I fucking can’t!”

“If I have to tie this thing inside you, and go get a chair to sit and wait you out, I’ll do it. You can come, and you’re going to.”

He uncapped the lube one handed, squeezed it, and slicked up his other hand.

Then he started to work Dean’s dick. It was more than resistant, but they’d played a game once where Sam’s job was to get Dean to come, and Dean’s job was _not_ to.

He had to admit, his brother’s determination was epic in nature, but Sam had won out in the end, and that was just using his hands, not even with the help of a toy buzzing away in Dean’s ass.

He had this, and he upped his pace, stroking harder and faster until Dean was really struggling, sloshing water over the sides of the bath, and screaming his brother’s name.

And getting close. It was like Dean’s body was fighting itself; it was too cold and uncomfortable to come, but the stimulation Sam was forcing on it had only one escape, just like from the water, and that was for it to just….

Dean’s breath stuttered, his chest heaving, and Sam knew he was cresting.

“It’s okay, big brother,” he said. “Just come for me, Dean. Just let it go.”

And Dean did. For all that effort, Dean’s climax was less than earth shattering. His dick spasmed weakly, grudgingly leaking thin white strands of cum that broke up and floated to the surface, like scum on a pond.

Dean slumped back, sinking lower into the water, but not so low that Sam had to grab him.

He looked wrecked, and Sam could tell that was probably the most unsatisfying orgasm his brother had ever had, his body all wrung out with nothing much to show for it, which contributed to how good Sam’s was, when he groaned and came in his pants.

They were wet, anyway, thanks to his brother, and that did mean Dean was due a punishment, but Sam figured he’d had as much as he could take in that respect just then.

He turned off the vibe, slipped it out and then undid Dean’s ankle cuffs, removing them and checking to make sure there were no worrying marks.

He drained the water, then, but left Dean’s wrists still fastened to the sides of the bath as he stood up and started to strip.

Dean just watched him, looking totally drained of every ounce of energy, and then Sam pulled the tabs on his wrist cuffs to free them from the sides of the bath.

He helped Dean stand up, got him steady.

But, as Dean was ready to climb out, Sam climbed in instead.

Dean made a puzzled sound, but wasn’t ready for Sam to turn him around, and use the carabiner clip he’d hidden in his hand to fasten Dean’s cuffs to each other behind his back.

“Sammy,” he moaned.

Sam kept one hand on Dean’s shoulder, while he used the other to turn on the shower head.

He shielded Dean from the spray until it was the right temperature, and then guided Dean down to his knees, making sure the water hit his back and not his face.

“Coming got you out of the water,” he said, looking down at Dean’s pleading eyes. “Getting out of the tub, and the cuffs? Yeah, that you need to earn.”


End file.
